Terminus Insontis
by elfprincess8
Summary: Dr. Carlisle Cullen gets a heart wrenching e-mail from Jacob Black, begging for help. Carlisle has to rescue Jacob, but he doesn't know where to look and time is running out. Will Carlisle find Jacob in time, or will Paul get away with murder?
1. Chapter 1

Terminus Insontis

The End of Innocence

Chapter One

The Cry for Help

Carlisle's POV

Dr. Carlisle Cullen sits down to his computer and opens his e-mail. He has just finished a long grueling day in the ER, and wants to relax. Tonight he will not have that luxury. He scans through the usual rubbish in his inbox, deleting most of it, until he comes upon an unusual message. It is titled, "Cry for Help", the sender, Jacob Black.

Dr. Cullen knows Jacob Black. He had met the boy several months before when Jacob had been brought in to the ER one night with a broken arm, lacerations and bruises. The boy's guardian, his step father Paul, had told a story about Jacob falling down the attic stairs. Dr. Cullen knew better. The type of injury present in the x-ray of Jacob's forearm was indicative of a defensive fracture. He had been attempting to protect himself from a blow. The multiple bruises and lacerations present all over the boy seemed to have been sustained in defense of person as well. The story didn't add up.

Dr. Cullen hadn't failed to notice Jacob's behavior either. The boy acted just like every other abused child he'd had ever had the misfortune to treat. They all sat very still, and refused to make eye contact. They were stoic; most didn't show signs of pain. They seemed afraid to do so. Jacob had remained silent, and allowed his step father to answer all the questions. When Carlisle asked the man to step out while he examined Jacob, Paul had gone into a complete rage. He'd demanded to know why he had to leave the room. That behavior alone had convinced Carlisle that Paul had something to hide.

It had all gone into his report to the child protective services, but due to Jacob's age, and his refusal to cooperate with the investigation, the case had gone cold. Jacob had slipped through the cracks just like so many other unfortunate kids often did. Carlisle hadn't forgotten that kid. Now there was an e-mail message from that boy sitting in his in-box. He wastes no time in opening it.

It was a video message, recorded and sent via e-mail. Carlisle clicks on the link in the e-mail, and a quick time player opens on his screen. He put on his headphones and quickly plugs them into his laptop. He turns up the volume.

At first the screen is dark and fuzzy, but it gradually gets a little clearer. He can see Jacob sitting in front of the web cam. His black hair has gotten longer, and is just touching his shoulders. His face is covered in bruises, and his lower lip is swollen and appears to have been busted. His right eye is blackened with a large purple bruise. Clearly the kid has just had the shit beat out of him. Carlisle is furious, but his heart wrenches inside him when Jacob finally speaks.

"Dr. Cullen, I hope you remember me. I found your e-mail on a website about the hospital. I don't mean to bother you, but I didn't know who else to contact. I need help. Paul is hurting me. He's not really my step-father. He's only thirty years old. He moved in with my mom, but she kicked him out, and he took me with him when he left. She didn't want me anyway. He's keeping me prisoner in his house. I don't really know where we are, but he was stupid enough to let me keep my laptop. I wired into the internet via the cable line. He doesn't know I'm sending you this message. Please find me before he kills me. Please help me!"

Jacob turns suddenly and looks back over his shoulder. Then reaches up and shuts the lap-top, ending the tear jerking message. Carlisle sits silently, his hand over his mouth. He can't believe what he has just witnessed. He knows he has to act quickly. It's obvious that Jacob is terrified. Perhaps his friend Charlie Swan, the chief of police, can help him find this boy before it's too late.

Carlisle picks up his cell and dials his friend's number.

"Charlie? Yeah, it's Carlisle. Listen, I have a problem. I need your help."

Several miles away, locked in a filthy attic, a sixteen year old boy shivers, naked in the cold. His arms are wrapped around his battered body. He looks out the tiny window above the dirty, stained mattress he is sitting on. He prays to God that his message reached its destination. He prays that help will come in time. He will not live this way much longer.

He stands and walks over to the corner of the attic where a broken beer bottle lies among the discarded trash and debris. He picks it up and returns to the mattress. He crosses his legs, Indian style, and uses the shard of broken glass in his hand to slice a jagged cut on the inside of his upper thigh. He does this several times, and then lies back on the pillows. The pain is his only vice. It is the only thing that lets him know he is still alive. It is the anesthetic to all the other pain he feels.

"God help me!" He sobs into the pillow. "God please help me!"


	2. Chapter 2

Terminus Insontis

Chapter Two

Time Marches On

JPOV

Jacob lies on the dirty mattress. He shivers under the old, thread bare quilt. It is the only protection he has against the cold in the unheated attic prison. Paul is home. Jacob can hear the sounds from below, footsteps, doors slamming, the television coming to life. They are regular everyday sounds. To Jacob, they are like a death knell. They mean only one thing. His tormenter has returned.

Jacob tenses as the sound of Paul's heavy footfalls ascend the stairs. He knows Paul is probably already drunk. He usually is by the time he gets back. Jacob doesn't know where Paul goes during the day, but he always stops by a bar on his way home. Liquor makes Paul braver, meaner, and more sadistic. It also fuels his cruel lust.

There is a sound of keys jangling outside the bolted door, and then it creaks open ominously. Jacob sits up and turns to face his abuser. Paul stands silently in the open door watching his victim, the wicked smile on his face twisting his handsome features and making him look purely evil. Jacob cannot fail to notice the half empty bottle dangling from Paul's left hand.

"Miss me?" Paul asks.

Jacob doesn't answer. There would be no point, and he realizes this. Paul lifts the bottle, and drains the rest of its contents in two big gulps. He tosses the empty bottle away, and it breaks against the exposed brick wall. The shards of broken glass reflect for a split second, the meager light from the single candle burning on top of a packing crate in the corner.

Paul moves sluggishly to stand in front of Jacob as he begins to slowly unbutton his flannel shirt. He slides if off, revealing his bulky, muscular build. Jacob turns away and refuses to watch. Paul laughs at this gesture, clearly amused. He unbuckles his belt, and whips it through the loops of his faded, stained jeans. He coils it and smacks it against his hand. The sound echoes through the dingy little room.

"I see you cut yourself again." Paul says as his eyes survey the three jagged cuts on the inside of Jacob's right thigh. "I thought I told you to stop that shit. I guess you like pissing me off. I suppose you know what that means don't you?" Paul asks as he cracks the folded belt against his hand again.

Jacob turns to look up at his tormenter. He knows Paul would find any excuse to torture him. He no longer cares. Even the pain is something. It is a change from the nothing he endures hour after hour in his prison. He rolls over onto his stomach, clenches his fists on either side of his head, and buries his face in the pillow, hoping it will muffle his screams.

"Look at that!" Paul teases. "Little boy already knows he's in for an ass whipping. Seems to me like he must want it. Do you want it Jacob?"

Again Jacob doesn't answer. He waits, every muscle in his body tensing for the first blow. Paul raises the belt over his head and brings it down with a sickening crack against Jacob's exposed back side. Jacob clenches his teeth together, and bites his tongue in the effort. He tastes his own blood in his mouth, but again, it is something.

The pain comes again and again. Jacob holds off as long as he can, before the tears begin spilling, hot down his cheeks. The salt in them stings the many abrasions on his skin.

"You stupid little faggot!" Paul shouts. "Anybody can see why your mom didn't want you! Boys like you are only good for one thing."

Paul tosses the belt to the floor, and kicks off his boots. He struggles to stay upright as he strips off his jeans, stumbling drunkenly about. He finally manages to get them off, and approaches the bed. He reaches down and grabs Jacob by his hair, dragging the boy up to kneel on his knees in front of him. Paul wraps his hand around his swelling cock, and jerks hard on Jacob's hair, pulling him closer.

"Suck it!" He demands.

"No!" Jacob cries, and begins to struggle, pushing against Paul with his hands.

Paul strikes Jacob across the right side of his face with his open hand, knocking the boy backwards.

"Boy, you better suck me if you know what's good for you! I swear, I'll fucking kill you if you don't." Paul shouts as he grabs Jacob by the hair again and drags him back up onto his knees.

Again, Jacob tries to fight against the bigger, stronger man, but he is weak and exhausted from his ordeal. Paul lets go of Jacob and leans down to retrieve something from the pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. Jacob draws back onto the mattress and wraps his arms around his knees as Paul lights a cigarette and takes a long thoughtful drag.

"You had to fight me didn't you? You just couldn't behave yourself. Now you're going to have to pay the price. Remember you little faggot, you brought this on yourself." Paul states as he drops the lighter to the floor and advances suddenly on Jacob.

Jacob tries to dodge to one side, but Paul catches him and they struggle for a moment before Paul manages to pin Jacob down, and reaches under the mattress for a pair of cuffs, the key to those cuffs hangs around his neck on a chain. He cuffs Jacob's hands together behind his back, and rolls him over.

Paul kneels across Jacob's thighs, and grins down at the boy trapped beneath him. He reaches up and takes the cigarette out of his mouth, then turns slightly, and crushes it down against the cuts on Jacob's thigh.

Jacob screams, and thrashes under Paul, attempting to throw the larger man off of him, but to no avail. Paul grinds the lit end of the cigarette against the cuts, burning the damaged skin. He tosses the crushed cigarette away, and turns back to Jacob.

"Ready to be a good boy now?" He asks.

"Yes, I'll be good. Please don't do that again. I promise, I'll be good." Jacob pleads.

"Now that's more like it. So where were we? Oh yeah, I think it was something like this." Paul states as he stands up and pulls Jacob up by his hair to kneel in front of him again.

"I think you were about to give me the dick sucking of my life weren't you?" Paul asks as he slaps Jacob's face again. "Get to it!"

Paul grabs Jacob by the hair once again, and drags him closer, pushing his rock hard cock against Jacob's lips. Jacob has no choice. He opens his mouth, and takes it in.

"That's it you dirty little cock sucker! All of it take it all. I want to see wicked bruises on the back of your throat when I'm done with you." Paul laughs.

Jacob tries to do his best. He hopes it is enough, but it's so big. Paul thrusts hard into Jacob's mouth, and it is all Jacob can do to keep from gagging. That would piss Paul off for sure.

"Enough!" Paul shouts, pulling out of Jacob's mouth and pushing him away.

He grabs Jacob by the hair once more, and drags the boy across the room, forcing him face down over a crate in the center of the room.

"Please no! Please…Please…" Jacob begs, but Paul is deaf to his pleas.

Paul leans down, puts his mouth inches from Jacob's ear and whispers.

"I told you, boys like you are only good for one thing."

Jacob screams again, as he is impaled on Paul's enormous cock. Paul thrusts so hard against Jacob that the heavy crate begins to move across the floor. Jacob cannot even struggle, his hands are cuffed, and he can't fight. Paul is holding tightly to Jacob's shoulders, shoving his chest down onto the crate. He can no longer even draw breath enough to scream as a release from the pain.

"You like that faggot? You scream like a girl. You know you want it!" Paul teases.

For Jacob, it is an unendurable agony. Paul takes his time with it. The alcohol in his system enables him to hold out his orgasm much longer than he would normally have been able to. Eventually though, he can keep it back no longer, and with a last cruel thrust that lifts Jacob's feet off the ground, he releases it.

"Oh fuck yeah! That's it baby; your sweet ass is mine!" He cries as he pulls out of Jacob and struggles to get his breath back.

Jacob lies motionless, willing himself to draw one painful breath after another. It is all he can do. After a moment, Paul takes the key from the chain around his neck, and releases the handcuffs. He takes Jacob by the arms, and drags him stumbling down the short flight of stairs and into the filthy, cramped little bathroom on the lower floor of the house. The tiny room barely has enough space for both of them to stand upright, and is lit by a single bulb hanging from a chain. Jacob's head bumps against the light bulb and it begins to swing in an arc casting eerie light over the scene.

"Clean yourself up you little bastard. You smell like a fucking dog. Get a damn shower." Paul demands as he reaches over and turns on the rusty faucets.

The water runs a dirty brown for a moment before it becomes clear. Jacob steps under the shower, and takes the bar of soap off the old, cracked porcelain holder. He lathers up his hands and begins to wash the blood, sweat, and cum off of himself. Paul leans against the wall watching everything with a smug expression.

The last of the blood washes away down the drain. Paul forces Jacob back up the rickety stairs, and throws him down on the mattress. The sound of the lock clicking on the attic door brings a kind of easy stillness to the room. Jacob knows he has survived another attack. How many more will he have to endure?

He stands and makes his was on shaky legs over to the crate in the center of the room, the very one he was just raped against. He climbs up onto it, and reaches into the rafters to retrieve his laptop. He had positioned it with the web cam pointed down to record everything that transpired. He climbs back down, places the laptop on the crate and kneels in front of it.

"Dr. Cullen, I'm sorry you had to watch all of that, but I hope you will give it to the authorities. They can use it to convict Paul. He won't be able to lie his way out of what he's done now. Please don't give up on me. You're my only hope."

Jacob compresses the video file, and sends it as an e-mail attachment. He closes the laptop, and climbs back up onto the crate to hide it in the rafters once more. It is his only lifeline to the outside world. It is his only hope for rescue. If only he'd just told Dr. Cullen what was really happening to him that night in the ER, but he'd been so afraid.

He makes his way back to the mattress and pulls the shard of glass from beneath it. He leans back against the wall, places the razor sharp point against his forearm, and drags it over his skin, leaving a blood red line behind. Relief exists for him, but he finds it only when he is cut.


	3. Chapter 3

Terminus Insontis

Chapter Three

The Hacker

Carlisle and Charlie Swan sit in the near darkness of the Forks, Washington police station staring at the computer screen in front of them. Carlisle had shared Jacob's latest video message with Charlie as soon as he received it. Carlisle had been sickened by the violence on the screen, for Charlie however, such scenes are all too common. As police chief, he's witnessed his share of violence. It is just an unfortunate part of his job.

"So what do we do Charlie? We have to find this kid now!" Carlisle urges.

"We can't trace the video feed, because it's not in real time. He compresses the file, and sends it via e-mail, leaving us no way to find it. To make matters worse, he changes the e-mail address he sends it from each time. It's almost like he doesn't really want to be found. I don't understand it." Charlie sighs, scratching at his chin.

"Trust me, he wants to be found. He's scared to death, and probably afraid that Paul will find out what he's been doing." Carlisle replies.

"You may be right. Hey, I just thought of something. I think I might know someone who could help us. His name is Edward. He's kind of a computer geek. We caught him hacking into the BMV website and changing his friend's vehicle VIN numbers a couple years back when he was just a high school kid. He's really smart when it comes to computer stuff. I'll try to contact him and see if he can offer us any help." Charlie says.

"I hope he will. I honestly don't know what else we can do for the kid at this point except to hope Paul doesn't kill him before we can get to him. Your patrols haven't brought in any information, and you've had no luck locating Jacob's mother. I'm worried that we might be too late." Carlisle sighs.

"Try to keep hope Carlisle. We'll keep doing all we can. Meantime, contact me immediately if you get any more e-mails from him." Charlie says, patting Carlisle on the shoulder.

Hours later, Dr. Cullen sits awake staring at his laptop as if willing the "you've got mail" icon to appear on his screen. Unfortunately, the screen remains blank.

"Where are you Jacob?" He asks aloud to the empty room. The ringing of his cell phone startles him out of reverie.

"Hello"

"Carlisle, can you come to the station, and bring your laptop? Edward is here. He thinks he can help." Chief Swan's voice responds.

"I'll be right there!" Carlisle replies.

Carlisle is surprised when he enters Charlie's office, and sees a very young and obviously Goth kid sitting at the desk. Edward is about six feet tall, very pale, with black dyed hair. He has outlined his eyes with black liner, is wearing a studded dog collar, and all black clothing with Doc Martin boots. He has piercings in both of his ears, his nose, his lip, and his eyebrow. His fingernails are painted black. Dr. Cullen has seen kids like Edward before, but not usually this close up. He tends to try and maintain a safe distance from Goths. It's not that he has anything against them, but teenagers scare the living shit out of him.

"Edward, I'd like you to meet my friend Dr. Carlisle Cullen." Charlie states.

Edward stands up and extends his hand. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance Dr. Cullen." Edward replies, shaking Carlisle's hand.

"Thank you for agreeing to help us." Carlisle answers.

"Oh it was my pleasure." Edward responds. "Chief Swan already showed me the videos. I want to meet this kid. Holy Shit! He's the cutest cutter I've ever seen! But God almighty, I hope we find him soon. That psycho's going to kill him if we don't hurry. You see, each time Jacob cuts, he's getting closer to a major artery. I think he knows that. It's obvious he's been doing it for a while. I can tell by the scars on him. I used to do it. You learn how to do it without killing yourself, but you always know you have that out, to kill yourself; it's in the back of your mind. Anyway, I was telling Charlie…"

"Edward thinks if he is online on your computer the moment you get the e-mail, that he can locate the source of the e-mail before Jacob has time to delete the file." Charlie interrupts.

"Yeah, it's not easy, but it is possible. I'll download the tracking devices I need onto your hard drive that is if you're willing, then we sit back, and wait." Edward answers.

"Yes, of course, here it is." Carlisle replies as he hands Edward the laptop.

Edward goes to work, Charlie steps outside for a smoke, and Carlisle sits down to watch. Edward's fingers practically dance over the keys. He's quick, and in no time, he looks back up.

"Ok, we're ready. Now we just have to be vigilant. How often does this kid e-mail you?" Edward asks.

"Only twice, and it's been over a couple days' time between e-mails." Carlisle replies.

"Well then, we might have to take shifts watching your computer. We'll get Charlie's men to help us if we have to." Edward answers.

For Carlisle, the next two days are a living hell. He barely sleeps, making calls to the hospital to his partners who are covering for him, and to his family at home. He just can't leave the station until he hears from Jacob again. Carlisle is catching a nap on the small sofa, Edward is sleeping with his head down at the table, and Charlie is leaning against the wall talking on his cell, when they are all startled by a voice shouting.

"We got a hit!"

The voice belongs to Jasper Whitlock, a young detective who volunteered to help watch for the incoming e-mails.

Edward leaps into action, his fingers flying over the key boards to activate the scanning devices he's installed.

"Open the video!" Carlisle demands.

"Give me a minute. First let me try to lock onto where he's sending from." Edward insists.

Carlisle can only stand impatiently and watch as Edward works his magic.

"Ok, I think I've got it. Now I just have to do a reverse look up on the IP address, find out what carrier is supplying the wireless, and then we'll be able to contact that carrier to get a general area in which to look." Edward says enthusiastically.

Carlisle accesses his e-mail from Charlie's laptop. He has to know if Jacob is still alive. He waits breathlessly until the dark screen begins to come to life. Unfortunately, the face looking back is not the one Carlisle hopes to see.

"Hey, don't know who that rat bastard has been sending these videos too, but I hate to disappoint you. You'll have to get off some other way!" Paul shouts.

Carlisle watches helplessly as Paul pulls his cock out of his pants, and pisses on the laptop screen. He then lifts a sledge hammer from the floor and raises it above his head.

"No please don't!" cries a voice from somewhere behind Paul. Carlisle cringes as he knows who that voice belongs to.

"Fuck you!" Paul shouts, bringing the hammer down.

The screen goes dark.

So do Carlisle's hopes.


	4. Chapter 4

Terminus Insontis

Chapter Four

Last Resort

Paul stands over Jacob seething, his hand gripping the handle of the sledge hammer. The shattered remains of Jacob's laptop, his only lifeline to the outside world, lie in pieces on the floor at Paul's feet.

"All right you little fuck! Now you're goanna tell me who the hell you've been sending those messages to!" Paul shouts.

Jacob remains silent, staring up at Paul. He has resolved to remain quiet. Nothing Paul can do will make him speak. Jacob realizes that Paul may very well kill him. It doesn't matter. He is prepared for that possibility.

"I swear I'll shove this sledge hammer straight up your ass if you don't talk you little dick sucker!" Paul declares.

"You're goanna have to kill me Paul. I will never tell you. You might as well kill me. I mean their goanna find you anyway. Their on the way here right now. You'll see." Jacob answers as he draws back onto the mattress away from Paul. Unfortunately, that gesture further angers his tormenter.

Paul tosses the hammer aside, and lunges at Jacob, grabbing him by the hair. He stands, pulling Jacob off the mattress and dragging him into the center of the floor. Still holding the boy by his hair, Paul begins to kick Jacob in the stomach repeatedly.

"Talk God Damn you, fucking talk!" Paul screams.

"No!" Jacob gasps. "Go to hell!"

Paul kicks Jacob one last time, driving the breath out of him, and as the boy lies gasping on the floor, Paul opens the front of his jeans and pulls his cock out. He stands over Jacob's prostrate form stroking himself.

"I guess I'll just have to hurt you again, since you won't fucking talk. Seems to me like you must love being hurt. I don't get it!"

Paul moves into position, using his knee's to force Jacob's thighs apart, then drives his hard cock into Jacob, who is so out of breath from the assault that he can't even scream as he is impaled.

"You like that you little fucker? You had it coming!" Paul says against Jacob's ear.

Paul thrusts harder and harder, meaning to cause pain and harm, meaning to cause damage. He wants Jacob to hurt. He wants Jacob to scream. It stokes his pleasure to know he is in control, to know he is the torturer. But he has overplayed his hand. Jacob has no strength to defend himself, no breath to beg and plead. He lies motionless and endures. It is his only defense.

Paul cannot hold back his orgasm none the less, and despite his desire to render Jacob into a sobbing, pleading mess, he gives in and spills himself.

"Doesn't matter you puke, you're still a good fuck!" Paul sneers as he pulls out of Jacob and stands up. "Hope you die on that floor." He leans over and spits into Jacob's face.

Paul turns his back and then reaches down to retrieve his cigarettes and lighter from the floor. He doesn't see Jacob stand up behind him. He doesn't hear the boy's stealthy movement. Paul turns around to insult Jacob some more, but does not see a pathetic boy crying on the floor.

Jacob stands naked, facing Paul. His head is tilted down, but his eyes are focused on his tormenter, his mouth a tight line, his expression venomous. The boy's left hand is clenched into a fist, in his right hand; he holds the forgotten sledge hammer.

"What you plan on doing with that you piece of shit?" Paul asks bravely, attempting to hide the worried look in his eyes.

Jacob remains motionless, only his expression changes as his mouth twists into a cruel smile. Paul takes a step back, and trips over a pile of discarded beer bottles, landing awkwardly on his back.

"I'll show you." Jacob answers his voice low and menacing.

Paul doesn't have time to protest, he doesn't have time to move away. Jacob takes the handle in both hands, and raises the heavy hammer above his head.

"Burn in hell you fucking sadist! When you get there, tell the devil I sent you!" Jacob shouts as he brings the hammer down directly on Paul's head.

Paul slumps to the floor, but Jacob is not satisfied. Again and again he drops the hammer splitting Paul's skull like a ripe melon. Blood, brains and bone spatter on the walls, ceiling, floor and all over Jacob. He doesn't seem to notice.

Jacob continues his attack until exhaustion takes him. He drops the hammer and stands staring at the carnage. He holds his bloody hands out in front of him and stares at them as if in disbelief. He falls to his knees and begins to shake uncontrollably. He raises his head and speaks aloud to the empty room.

"I'm sorry God. I didn't mean to kill him. I didn't want to. I'm sorry. Please don't send me to hell. Please!" Jacob pleads.

He crawls over to the mattress and curls up in a ball. Silence descends over the macabre scene. There is no web cam to witness the massacre. There is only the ticking of Paul's watch on his cold dead wrist, and the piteous sound of Jacob's sobs.

Jacob doesn't know how much time has passed. He stands up and walks over to the attic door. He tries the handle, and finds that Paul has forgotten to lock it. He makes his way slowly and on shaky legs, down the stairs. He stops in the filthy little bathroom and washes the blood off of himself, then makes his way into the brightly lit kitchen, squinting in all that light that he is not used to.

He sees Paul's discarded back pack lying on a chair, inside is a laptop. Jacob will make good use of it. He looks under the sink, and finds other items that he will need. He puts everything into the back pack, and goes back up the stairs to his former prison. For the first time in his young life, he is in control of his destiny.


	5. Chapter 5

Terminus Insontis

Chapter Five

My Place among the Ashes

CPOV

"Drive faster Charlie! We're almost there!" Edward shouts.

Carlisle can barely contain himself as he sits in the back seat of Charlie Swan's cruiser. Edward has managed to find, with the help of the local internet company, the address where Jacob was sending from. The three of them are now on their way to that address. It is located somewhere in the heart of the nearby La-Push reservation.

Charlie's deputies have searched extensively there, but the locals have not been forthcoming with any assistance. They resent outside interference in their business, and don't want to cooperate with the investigation.

Charlie has also learned that Jacob's mother, who lives in nearby Oregon, had not sent Jacob away. She'd filed a missing person's report on her son, and was desperately searching for him. Paul had kidnapped and lied to Jacob to make him believe his mother didn't want him. It is just one reason more for Carlisle to try and save Jacob's life if he can. He jumps as his laptop, lying on the seat beside him, comes to life. On the screen is the message "you've got mail".

Carlisle opens the message link with shaking hands. A video screen comes to life. The message is from Jacob. The boy is sitting on the floor in front of the computer. He holds a razor knife in one hand. Sitting beside him is a can of kerosene.

"I killed Paul Dr. Cullen. I guess I've done murder now. I know what happens to Indians when they get charged with murder. I don't want to go to prison Dr. Cullen. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just…" Jacob trails off, tears running down his cheeks.

"I just wanted to tell you, that I know you tried. I just know it. Tell my brother Seth I'm sorry."

Jacob lifts the razor knife to his chest and draws it across his skin leaving deep cuts.

"Jacob no!" Carlisle screams.

"Jeez, that kid is goanna do himself in if we don't get there soon. Look at all those cuts on him already. He's been doing it for a while from the look of it." Edward adds from the back seat.

Carlisle can see for himself all the jagged bleeding cuts on Jacob's chest and arms. He has no way of knowing how many more may be out of sight.

"I set the house on fire. I can't live like this anymore. My mother doesn't want me. Paul told me that boys like me are only good for one thing…" Jacob trails off again as he makes another cut.

"Just tell my brother I'm sorry." Jacob says, and then the screen goes black.

Charlie picks up the radio in his car, presses a button on the side and it crackles to life.

"Dispatch, please notify fire house five. They are about five miles closer to the location than we are. Tell them to go with lights and sirens, all guns blazing. We don't have much time, and send an ambulance." Charlie shouts. He turns to Carlisle sitting in the seat beside him.

"We're almost there Dr. Cullen. Just hang in there."

Carlisle knows Charlie means well, but he can't contain his fears. He realizes that they are probably too late. He will never forgive himself if they are.

"Hey, look at all that smoke!" Edward calls from the back seat.

Charlie and Carlisle strain to see out the side windows. Rising from the tops of the trees to their left, and a little way up the road, is a large black plume of smoke.

"Do you think he really did it?" Edward wonders.

"Dispatch, the house is on fire. Tell engine five to haul ass." Charlie shouts into the radio. Before dispatch can respond, the radio crackles to life in Charlie's hand.

"Chief Swan, this is Fire Chief Emmett. We're already at the address…." The rest of the message is cut off with static interference.

"Christ Charlie, drive faster!" Carlisle cries clutching at the dash board.

"Ok Dr. Cullen, just breathe." Charlie replies. He is already pushing the limits of safety on the twisting and poorly maintained roads of the reservation.

The cruiser rounds a bend in the road, and a chaotic scene comes into view. The little, green house is completely engulfed in flames. Fire trucks are pumping water into the collapsed roof of the structure. Chief Emmett is standing next to a body lying on the grass. It is covered with a bloody sheet. Dr. Cullen's heart stops beating.

He, Charlie, and Edward all jump from the cruiser at the same time, and run across the yard, attempting to dodge the ash and debris in the air, and the firemen who are still trying in vain to fight the fire.

Charlie kneels down beside the body and carefully lifts the sheet. He looks up at Dr. Cullen, who is standing just behind him, wringing his hands miserably.

"It's not Jacob. This must be Paul, or at least what's left of him. His head is mostly mush. Looks like he got it stuck in a meat grinder."

Carlisle kneels down to examine the body. It is definitely not Jacob. The flannel shirt Paul was wearing in the recent video transmission is the only thing that makes his identification possible for Dr. Cullen. Carlisle stands and turns to Emmett.

"Did you find another body?" He asks hesitantly.

Emmett points solemnly toward a stretcher that is concealed by a group of firemen. They part to allow Dr. Cullen access. Lying on the stretcher is Jacob. He is very pale, and the heart monitor attached to him is alarming. The firemen have started an IV, and are giving him fluids, but it doesn't look hopeful to Dr. Cullen. Jacob is obviously in shock.

His chest and upper arms are covered with multiple cuts, most of them quite deep. Dr. Cullen knows that Jacob has made these cuts himself. He'd witnessed the aftermath of that self-destruction on the video he'd just watched. He had hoped that they might reach Jacob before he exsanguinated himself, but it appeared they were too late. People just don't recover from that much blood loss.

Jacob looks up at Dr. Cullen and smiles.

"I knew you'd find me. I knew you'd come. Tell my little brother Seth that I love him. Tell him I wanted to come home to him. Tell him…." Jacob's voice falters and his breathing becomes ragged and strained.

"Get him to the hospital!" Carlisle shouts.

"Dr. Cullen…." Emmett begins.

"You heard me God Damn it! Get him the fuck to the hospital now!" Carlisle yells frantically.

"Dr. Cullen, he won't be saved. You know that. We're fifty miles from the nearest trauma center. We won't be able to reach help in time. There's nothing we can do." Emmett states. "I'm sorry."

Carlisle slumps down, still holding Jacob's hand, feeling it grow ever colder.

"Jacob, I'm so sorry. I failed you. You needed my help and I failed you." Carlisle breaks down into sobs.

"Charlie, would you please ask your men, and Emmett's men to give Dr. Cullen a few moments? Just ask them to walk away and look the other direction just for a minute please." Edward asks respectfully.

"Sure", Charlie replies. He clasps Dr. Cullen on the shoulder briefly, and then walks away with Emmett. They do as Edward asked, and all the men turn their backs as they move to the other side of the fire trucks to give Carlisle a minute.

"I wasn't fast enough. I tried." Edward sighs.

"You did the best you could. No one blames you Edward." Dr. Cullen replies.

Jacob continues to gasp for breath, his pupils are dilated, his skin cold, and his lips a sickly blue.

"Step back Dr. Cullen, if you would please." Edward says, taking Carlisle by the arms, and gently pulling him back.

"Why?" Carlisle asks.

Edward looks up at Carlisle and smiles.

"Do men of medicine like you believe in miracles?" Edward asks.

"I used to." Carlisle sighs.

"Well get ready Dr. Cullen. I'm going to show you a miracle." Edward answers.


	6. Chapter 6

Terminus Insontis

Chapter Six

Lost Again

CPOV

"Get ready Dr. Cullen. I'll show you a miracle."

Those were Edward's words. Carlisle doesn't know what to expect. He watches in complete bewilderment as Edward leans down, and takes Jacob into his arms. He carefully lifts the boy's head, and brushes the hair away from his neck.

"Watch closely Dr. Cullen. You're going to be amazed." Edward says.

Carlisle leans down to see better.

Edward opens his mouth and closes his teeth down on Jacob's neck. Jacob gasps as if in pain, and his eye's flutter open for a moment, before closing once again. Edward appears to be drinking Jacob's blood.

"What are you doing Edward?" Carlisle cries.

Edward raises his head, Jacob's blood all over his lips, and without answering Carlisle, Edward bites into his own right wrist. He opens Jacob's mouth with his left hand, and drips blood from his wrist into Jacob's mouth.

"Stop this!" Carlisle shouts. "Charlie, Emmett, get over here!"

Both men come running across the yard to the sound of Carlisle's agitated shouting. Edward stands, gripping his bleeding wrist in his left hand.

"It's done. The rest is up to him now. I've done all I can do. Be ready Carlisle. When he wakes up, he's going to come looking for you first." Edward says, then turns and walks back to Charlie's cruiser.

"What's going on?" Charlie asks, slightly out of breath.

"That boy Edward has a vampire complex going on or something. He bit Jacob on the neck, and then dripped blood from his wrist into Jacob's mouth. I can't believe he did that!" Carlisle gasps as he leans down to inspect the bite marks on Jacob's neck.

"What?" Carlisle asks in confusion. "There's nothing here! But I saw the blood on Edward's mouth. I saw…" Carlisle stops.

"Come on Dr. Cullen. It's been a very stressful day for all of us. I know Edward is a little weird, but…" Charlie starts.

"Damn it, I know what I saw." Carlisle responds.

Emmett turns to look in the direction of the cruiser where Edward is sitting in the back seat. Edward raises his head, and their eyes meet. Emmett nods to Edward, and Edward returns the gesture. Carlisle doesn't notice. He is still too busy searching on Jacob's neck for bite marks.

"Carlisle, try to calm down…" Charlie begins.

"Jacob? Jacob? No, don't, please." Carlisle cries.

Jacob's gasping breaths have stopped. His chest is motionless. The heart monitor indicates flat line. Emmett solemnly removes his hat, and holds it to his chest.

"So sorry kido." Charlie sighs, as he reaches out and runs his fingers lovingly through Jacob's hair.

Carlisle stands broken with grief. He can't even think of anything to say. There is nothing to say. His worst fears are reality. They failed.

_The next morning_

Dr. Cullen stands in his scrubs in the cold morgue room of Forks Hospital. He requested, and was granted permission to perform the autopsy on Jacob. He hesitates before the drawer marked nineteen. Jacob's body is in the black morgue bag inside that drawer.

Carlisle reaches out slowly, and tugs on the drawer handle, sliding it out and revealing the closed bag he dreads to see.

"I'm so sorry Jacob." He whispers as he reaches down to pull open the zipper. He stops cold.

The body inside the bag is not Jacob. It's an elderly man. Carlisle quickly closes the bag. He walks across the room to the ledger on the desk. He can clearly see the entry marked for Jacob.

_Jacob Black, Native American male, aged 16 years, height: 6ft 2 in, weight: 179lbs, time of death 17:32pm, location: drawer 19_

Directly below the entry for Jacob, is another entry for an eighty-nine year old man. This entry indicates the old man was placed in drawer three. Carlisle quickly opens drawer three. As he suspects, it is empty.

He lifts the phone receiver on the desk, and dials the extension for Dr. Anglin, who is the head mortician.

"Yes, Dr. Anglin? This is Carlisle. I'm having a little problem."

"Did you find something?" Dr. Anglin asks.

"No, I didn't find anything. There isn't anything to find. His body isn't here." Carlisle answers.

"What do you mean it isn't there? I was here when they brought it in. I'm coming down there." Dr. Anglin hangs up.

Carlisle waits in the silent morgue with only the ticking of the clock to break the stillness. He remembers Edward's words.

"_I'll show you a miracle"_

"It can't be. It just can't be." Carlisle murmurs.

Dr. Anglin, a short fat man with a wild shock of graying reddish hair, bustles into the room and opens drawer nineteen.

"What the hell?" He exclaims.

"The entry in the ledger says Jacob is supposed to be in drawer nineteen, but right after he was brought in last evening, the orderly brought in another person, an elderly man. He was supposed to have been put in drawer number three. That drawer is empty. Someone came in here and took Jacob's body." Carlisle says.

"Impossible! We have the whole place on surveillance cameras." Dr. Anglin answers as he begins to open all the drawers searching for the missing body.

When Dr. Anglin has checked all twenty drawers, he turns to face Carlisle.

"Come on; let's go review the camera footage. It will show us what happened."

The two men enter the little morgue office, and sit down in front of the monitor screens. Dr. Anglin begins to rewind the footage back to the time when Jacob was brought in. Carlisle feels his gut wrench as he watches Emmett and Charlie enter the room followed by the EMT's bringing the cart upon which lies Jacob's body. He watches as they place the body in a bag, zip it closed, and put it in the drawer marked nineteen. The men stand around for a minute talking with Dr. Anglin, and then make their way back out the door. Carlisle sees his own shadow in the open door. He'd not wanted to go into the morgue. He'd not wanted to watch them put Jacob in the drawer.

"All right, so we know he was put in that drawer. Now we just have to watch the footage from here." Dr. Anglin says.

They sit watching loop after loop of footage. After the monitor indicates that two hours have passed, an orderly enters with a gurney. He takes the body of the elderly man, and puts it in a bag, then places it in drawer three. He marks the ledger book, then leaves. Several more hours pass on the monitor.

Suddenly, the monitor screen goes dark, then fuzzy, and then shuts off completely. For approximately one minute, the screen remains black, and then gradually comes back to life.

"Edward, I knew it!" Carlisle shouts as he stands up. "I should have thought of it sooner. Edward would know how to mess with the monitor equipment. He would be able to do it. He's the one who did this. He's the one that took Jacob. I have to call Charlie."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Dr. Anglin calls after Carlisle's retreating form.

Carlisle lets the door to the morgue slam shut behind him as he frantically dials his cell.

"Chief Swan, what can I do for you Carlisle?" Charlie's voice answers.

"Charlie, Edward has taken Jacob's body." Carlisle answers.

"What are you talking about?" Charlie asks.

Carlisle quickly explains all that has transpired since he first entered the morgue that morning.

"I knew it had to be Edward. He's the computer genius. He told me he would show me a miracle right before he bit Jacob. I know you don't believe me, but I think he has this vampire fantasy thing going on. I think he took Jacob's body to make me believe he turned that kid into a vampire. You need to arrest him…." Carlisle stops, completely out of breath.

"Hold up Carlisle. It couldn't have been Edward. He's been right here with me at the office all this time. He locked himself out of his apartment, and I brought him back here to sleep on the sofa. He's not been out of my sight since we left Jacob's body there last evening. I swear to you, it can't have been him.

"Well I don't understand this! Who else would have taken him?" Carlisle asks miserably.

"I don't know Carlisle, but I'll be right there. I'll bring Edward with me. Maybe he can look at the cameras, figure out what happened.

_Nine PM that night_

It had been an unbearably long day for Carlisle. He'd stayed outside the morgue while Edward reviewed the footage, but unfortunately, nothing was discovered. Charlie had filed a police report and begun an investigation. He'd had the unfortunate task of notifying Jacob's mother that her son's body was missing from the morgue. She'd had nothing to offer in terms of a lead. They are basically back at square one again. Jacob is missing. Carlisle doesn't know where to look. He feels like he's failed Jacob again.

To make matters worse, when he'd come home at seven that evening, he'd been met at the door by his wife Esme. She announced that she was leaving him, and taking their two daughters Alice and Rosalie with her. She'd had enough of his late hours, and his obsessions. She was going back to Phoenix her home town. He would be hearing from her lawyer later in the week.

Carlisle sits in from of his laptop. He has been watching the video's Jacob sent him over and over. He listens to Jacob's voice. Tears begin to form in his eyes. So tragic it was, just so damn tragic. He'd not even known the boy all that well. It didn't matter. He'd taken an oath to save lives. He'd been unable to save Jacob's.

He stands and closes the lap top, and walks over to the refrigerator. He's lost his family, and failed Jacob. The only reason he has to get up in the morning is the hope that Jacob's body will be found. He knows Charlie and his men are working on it. The young detective Jasper Whitlock had been happy to come on board. Word was he was the best detective they had. Carlisle hopes so. He reaches into the frig and gets himself a cold beer, cracks it open, and lifts it to his lips.

Before he can take a sip, the cell phone he'd left on his desk across the room begins to ring. In his haste to get to the desk, he trips over a throw rug and sprawls face down on the kitchen floor, busting his bottom lip.

"Damn it!" He mutters as he stands up, straightens his clothes, and makes his way, limping slightly over to his desk.

He yanks up the cell phone, hoping its Charlie, or perhaps Jasper with some news about the case.

"Hello." Carlisle answers.

"Dr. Cullen, It's me, Jacob."


	7. Chapter 7

Terminus Insontis

Chapter Seven

From the world of the Dead

"_Dr. Cullen, this is Jacob."_

Carlisle stands frozen in place. He cannot believe he is hearing the voice on the other end of the call. He knows that voice. He would know it anywhere.

"Dr. Cullen, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here." Carlisle stammers into the phone.

"I wanted to come and see you, but I thought it might be best if I called first, given the circumstances."

"What circumstances? I don't understand this. Who are you? This can't be Jacob. I saw you die. I saw…" Carlisle trails off, no longer sure of his own reality.

"Dr. Cullen?" The voice isn't on the phone. It's in the room with him. Carlisle hangs up, and turns slowly around.

Jacob stands in the center of the room. He is dressed in a black t-shirt, jeans, and black Converse Chuck Taylors. The cuts on his arms are gone. He looks completely healed. It simply cannot be.

Carlisle takes short, hesitant steps towards Jacob, but stops a few feet away. He looks the boy up and down. Jacob seems real enough. He looks into Carlisle's confused eyes, and smiles.

"You were there Dr. Cullen. You saw what happened. Well, you saw what Edward did to me. Emmett started it upstairs. He found me dying on the floor, and gave me some of his blood. It was enough to keep my heart beating until Edward could work his magic. But Emmett isn't venomous like Edward, so we had to wait for him. I never believed in that shit before. Did you believe in it Dr. Cullen?" Jacob asks.

"Jacob, I don't know what to believe anymore. My rational world has been turned upside down. My mind is trained to work in the scientific, in what I can prove and believe. None of this makes sense to me. I can see you standing there in front of me as clear as day, but I also saw you die." Carlisle answers.

"No Carlisle. You saw me given another chance. You saw me given another life. I can go and see my mother and my brother now. Emmett had a good idea. He said to tell her that it was part of the witness protection program or something, and that Charlie had to tell them I was dead so that I could disappear. Do you think that makes sense Dr. Cullen?" Jacob asks.

"Yes Jacob, I suppose so." Carlisle sighs as he slumps down on his couch.

"What happened to your lip Dr. Cullen?" Jacob asks coming closer, and kneeling down to inspect the slit in Carlisle's lower lip.

"I fell trying to get to the phone." Carlisle answers.

"How unfortunate, I'm sorry. I caused that didn't I? Well, no need to make good blood go to waste." Jacob states as he leans closer to Carlisle and brushes his lips against the cut.

Carlisle freezes in place. Jacob feels warm to him. Shouldn't he feel cold? Jacob's tongue darts out and slides along the laceration on Carlisle's lower lip. Carlisle is surprised to find this pleasurable. Jacob's hands move to either side of Dr. Cullen's face to hold him steady.

"Your blood tastes so good Dr. Cullen. I'm sorry, I just can't help myself." Jacob whispers against Carlisle's mouth.

There is no time to act, no time even to think. Carlisle doesn't realize what's happening until it is too late. Jacob moves faster than he can see, and he feels the sharp fangs sink into his neck. He is shocked with the violence of the attack, but that fear and disbelief is blessedly brief. His blood is flooded with the chemicals in Jacob's bite and a feeling of complete euphoria takes him.

He reaches up to wrap his arms around Jacob's neck. Carlisle knows this is wrong, but his sense of reality is gradually leaving him. The pleasure he feels in this intimate moment is so much greater than anything else he has ever known. All those long hours at the hospital he devoted to saving lives, to pleasing others. The attempts at marriage counseling he's endured with Esme in a vain effort to save a worn out marriage, the dollars he threw at his spoiled daughters to buy their love, none of it matters now. Everything he thought was important crumbles into dust. He is left only with the feeling of weightlessness and freedom that Jacob has given him.

Jacob breaks the bite and gasps for breath, drawing his tongue seductively over his sensual, full lips.

"No blood like yours, none in the world, so pure, so innocent. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to take so much."

Carlisle can feel his heart racing, he is weak, dizzy. Jacob eases him back down into the cushions of the couch. The feeling of euphoria is still present, but is slowly waning. He wants it to last forever.

"Jacob, please don't leave. There is so much I want to ask you, so much I want to tell you." Carlisle struggles for breath enough to speak. He realizes that his life may well be in danger. Jacob took so much blood from him.

"What do you want to ask me? What do you want to tell me? That you're sorry? I already heard you say that. I wasn't dead. I was just suspended, waiting for the venom to change me. I suppose you are wondering how I got out of the morgue? Emmett came for me. He knew the time was right. He sabotaged the monitor systems from the computer room, and then moved very quickly to get me out before anyone could detect us. We were lucky. I don't know Carlisle, but I used to feel so helpless before. I don't feel that way any longer. I feel strong. Do you want to feel strong too?" Jacob asks.

"Yes Jacob. I truly do." Carlisle replies.

Jacob leans down and lifts Dr. Cullen easily off the sofa. He carries Carlisle up the stairs and into his bedroom, laying him carefully down on the bed.

"I knew you'd come for me. I knew you wouldn't give up. You and your friends sent the fire trucks to me. If Emmett hadn't gotten there when he did, if Edward… Well, no matter, it's done. No one can ever hurt me again."

Jacob reaches down and unties Carlisle's robe, pulling it off of him.

"What are you doing Jacob?" Carlisle asks.

"Thanking you for not giving up on me."

Jacob stands up at the side of the bed and quickly undresses. "Look Dr. Cullen, all the scars are gone. It's like they were never there."

Carlisle passes his eyes over Jacob's impressive body. He's right; there is no sign of all the cuts he'd made. Nothing remains of the scars Paul had caused either. Wiped away, those gruesome reminders of his captivity, gone the evidence of his torture. Left in its place is a whole, healed, beautiful boy; a boy with deadly fangs, and an appetite for the blood of the living. Somehow it doesn't matter to Carlisle.

Jacob climbs into the bed beside him and pulls the covers up over them. He props himself up on one arm and looks into Carlisle's eyes.

"Let me bring you to me. Then you can get away from all this shit that doesn't matter anymore. You won't have to wonder if I'm safe. You'll be with me. You can be with me forever. Won't you please join me?"

Carlisle understands what Jacob is asking. He realizes the implications of his decision, but there is no hesitation. He shakes his head yes, and reaches up to run his fingers tentatively through Jacob's hair.

"Yes I'll join you Jacob. Of course I'll come to you."

Jacob smiles, and then leans down to kiss Carlisle. The kiss is deep and passionate. Jacob is a wonderful kisser. Carlisle didn't expect that. He wraps his arms around Jacob and pulls him closer.

Jacob trails kisses down Carlisle's chest, slowly, oh so slowly. Carlisle can scarce stand it. He continues to struggle with his racing heart, his ragged breath, but neither of those conditions hampers him too much. He is in the moment. He is more alive that he has ever been, though he hovers precariously close to death.

Jacob takes one of Carlisle's nipples into his mouth, and bites it. Warm blood flows into the boy's mouth, and he moans his appreciation loudly. Carlisle gives willingly. He will give all he has. Jacob's big hands slid down lower over Carlisle's stomach. He wraps his hand around Carlisle's swollen cock and begins to stroke it quickly.

"Does that feel good?" Jacob asks almost innocently.

"Yes…oh yes…don't stop…" Carlisle gasps.

"Never." Jacob answers as he lowers his head and takes the swollen member into his eager mouth.

Carlisle is not prepared for the sensation he feels as Jacob suddenly bites into the hard flesh. Although it should have been painful, it is more of that intense high, that feeling of bliss that he felt earlier. It is a million times better than any orgasm he has ever known. More real than any passion, imagined or experienced.

He clutches at Jacob's head, pulling at him, as he pushes up into the boy's mouth. He didn't realize how much he needed this. It has been so long, so long that he can't remember when. Jacob draws a little more blood and releases Carlisle. He crawls up over him, and kneels over Carlisle's thighs.

Jacob bites into his wrist and holds it down to Carlisle's mouth.

"Drink Dr. Cullen, drink and be free of this weakness. Stay with me forever. I will make you strong."

Carlisle drinks. The blood is rich, delicious to him. He wraps his arms around Jacob's wrist and takes more. There will never be enough.

Several hours later, Carlisle awakens. He is lying in his bed. He is acutely aware of all the sounds, smells, and sights that surround him though he is in almost complete darkness. Jacob. Where is he? Carlisle stands up so suddenly that he is momentarily disorientated, but he locates the object of his desire alone on the balcony, the moonlight brushing over his beautiful face like the wings of an angel.

Carlisle opens the door and steps out into the night. He has already forgotten how to feel weak and frightened. He will never second guess himself again. He is still the same man, but he has become something so much better, so much stronger. He will never doubt himself now. He knows what he wants. It stands right before him. His destiny, his desire, his love, he will never be alone again.

Authors Note: Thanks for following along. Love you guys!


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